


Kueth's writings

by PastTheVaultedDoors



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Dreams, Implied Sexual Content, My OC - Freeform, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Shamanism, Visions, Xaela
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-22
Updated: 2019-07-18
Packaged: 2019-11-03 20:32:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 5,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17884733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PastTheVaultedDoors/pseuds/PastTheVaultedDoors
Summary: Pulling writings off of Tumblr. One shots about my Xaela, Kueth. One-shots.





	1. Raven's Moon

There was a peaceful darkness of nightfall, and a chill in the air that excites for the changing of the season. But cooler, colder still as the plip-plap of heavy drops of water fell onto the tent overhead.

For a moment, Kueth thought he could see the moon peak through the clouds with a muffled light through the animal skins. He missed the spices of the Steppes at this time, the winds that set the leaves to dancing. The reason to settle under heavy furs and find warmth in another.

But that other person was no more, and Kueth’s heart ached, a wound that was still fresh but slowly mending. Filling with a flush of new faces and smells and places, like this desert, like these people that marked his back.

“It will always hurt,” said the moon as it blinked. It was an eye, bright and dark at once. Kueth smiled up from where he lay. “But it will be renewed like the seasons changing.”

The massive Xaela sat up and the tent disappeared to be replaced by a calm forest, sprinkled with rain, and shadowed by wings that looked like an oil spill. “Raven Spirit,” he said respectfully, and bowed to the enormous bird that dominated the misty night. “You remain my friend even with My Sage gone?”

The Raven smiled in a way only a Raven could. It was not seen, but felt, to where the breezy air was flushed with love and friendship. “It is my season, so I offer comfort for our mutual loss.”

Kueth’s head fell, although he knew better than to look away from a Raven, his heart weighed him down and he felt the sorrow of his heart drip from his chest like ink. Even the wild spikes of his blond hair seemed to droop with the gravity of anguish.

When he looked up again, the forest was gone and replaced with a field of golden wheat waving under nighttime’s caress. “The time of release is upon us but you are not alone, My Savage Star.” The Raven Spirit’s feathers rested heavily on Kueth’s strong shoulders while the heads of the wheat ticked his bare chest. It was a half embrace that made fat tears spring to the feral man’s eyes.

When his drops fell he was once more inside his tent with the rain plopping overhead. “Do not waste the opportunities given to you.”


	2. Kueth has many yet none

Kueth kicked off his boots then buried himself into a pile of pelts and blankets inside his tent. Energy was rarely absent for the large Xaela, but he hadn’t even the energy to light the fire, opting to hope that his blankets would keep him warm.

He had recently gotten back from a three day trip into a chilly dungeon. The demons and corrupted wildlife (and wild plants) weren’t the most difficult of excursions he’d ever faced. Kueth was used to the physical work; taking up his ax in the name of safety and security of his neighbors and strangers in need.

If not from the adventure’s board, Kueth was sought out from locals that knew his hunting patterns, or fellow adventurers would beseech his help as their shield on their endeavors; Kueth was rarely without someone to help.

No, no, none of that was an issue and why he felt utterly drained. For that, he was well built to accommodate the long hours fighting in cramped dungeons and listening closely to allies and enemies alike. No, the issue was...

Kueth groaned as he thought about it, rolling onto his side and pulling a pelt up to his nose to hide from the reality.

The problem was after the adventure, when their objective was won and the boss at the end was a corpse. It was when the adrenaline of battle and the thrill of victory still thrumming through veins with little direction to aim the energy.

So, adventurer’s not uncommonly would turn to each other to burn it off before parting ways.

It started out simple enough; a healer invited Kueth back to her room where he made her voice pitch high as he broke a chest of drawers. Then a limber rogue with a twisted smile and a delicious sense of adventure had them both panting and with a permanent ban from an inn.

It wasn’t every time, and there was nothing wrong with post-battle coitus to celebrate a job well done. It was just...

It was happening in mounting frequency. A few giggily women, a handful of curious men, bashfully or boldly asking for a Kueth to use his power over monsters to slay their body parts and leave them a defeated mess in bliss.

However, it appeared as though word of mouth was setting Kueth up for an orgy at the end of the dungeon tunnel. Every. Single. Time.

At first, it was exhilarating when he was still painting over a dead demon’s body, blood and sweat still sliding down his bare chest, ax gripped hard in his hands as he felt the incredible rush of battle pump through his body. But then a new focus would drop to his knees in front of him and tug at his belt. Soon, it would be followed by a mouth sucking greedily at his nipple, then another party member grinding against his thick tail.

Kueth loved to put his mouth on them, in them, liked it when he ladies quivered and got his horns soaked, and he liked to swallow the thick seed he would coax out of those with penises. There were times when he lost track of where his own cock had been. A mouth, a warm slide, a tight squeeze.

At least Kueth learned how to be safe and brought sufficient protection. It was especially useful when they tumbled over a broken alter of a cult lord they defeated and the party offered up their bodies to Kueth instead.

It was fun. The sex was amazing. He loved to bring pleasure to his partner(s) and feel them quiver around him in satisfaction. He loved the soft moans and the unabashed cries, and the way fingernails dragged against his back when he got in deep.

The kicker; after the boss was defeated, after the bodies were spent on their pleasure and no one had enough strength for another orgasm, Kueth would say his goodbyes and suddenly feel very much alone.

There was no emotional connection beyond the bonds of camaraderie, no love aside the affections of teamwork.

Kueth missed being in love. He missed warm arms around him at night, those sweet little conversations about everything and nothing. He missed snuggling under a blanket to watch the stars and sip on hot tea. Kueth missed hunting and cooking, providing for someone that would smile in thanks and share a meal.

Kueth missed being loved, and having someone help him in his social blunders, to tell him right from wrong when his skewed morals halted him. He missed letting someone take care of him when he took on too much.

Kueth missed the sweet, slow love making, the careful experimentation, the time to re-explore the perfection of his mate and connect so deeply their souls merged into one.

But his mate had been gone for many years now, and though the rebirth at least let them remain nearby, they would never again be lovers.

So Kueth ached for that warmth. He tried hard not to complain; the sex was satisfying, his understanding of Eorzean society was a slow and steady climb, and he was absolutely able to take care of himself and others. It was at these silent, tired moments when he let his heart slip and quietly yearn for love in the darkness of the night.


	3. Wolf's Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kueth's first vision.

Kueth sat in the darkness, in a dream; he didn’t actually exist. His father was anger, his mother was pain, and it was shoved unceremoniously into a body built for destruction and chaos.

But here, in his dreams, he was nothing, and in his deepest of hearts he knew it was right. No one got hurt.

Before him a light shimmered, white like the moon over water. It slithered between the black trees of night before making a stance onto Kueth’s barren pit. He looked around and noticed he cast no shadow. He did not exist, he was merely a monster of emotions.

When the Xaela peered up the moon came into view. She was vibrant, casting cool light over his darkness. Her steps were light, her paws large and left footprints of snow. The moon’s fur was wispy like fog in winter, but her eyes were regal and strong as they peered at the monster beneath her.

Her form was that of a giant wolf, one that Kueth was certain would be a struggle to fight, and she could snap his head off in her jaws like a storm to a dead tree. The gallant Wolf delicately leapt from the edge of his pit and landed before Kueth without a sound.

“Do you wish to be whole?” she asked without speaking, the sound a divine woman in the Xaela’s mind.

“Koo-eth want to exist,” he told her, his sound dark and cracking like gravel. Words he barely understood, a voice rarely used, but he wished to covey his heart to her with uncharacteristic respect. She was a goddess, and he would pay his dues.

The Great Wolf held up a glowing paw as big as Kueth’s face and before him appeared… he wasn’t quite sure what it was at first. It was a crude picture frame of stone with a black, shiny image in it. But the closer Kueth looked, he realized it was reflecting trees. The trees behind him. It was a mirror only Kueth was more shadow than the forest.

“Break it,” the Moon Goddess said.

That was more like it. Kueth gladly took the mirror and shattered it across the mud and rock covered ground. It quickly broke, frame and all. Even the small destruction had its satisfaction.

Wolf knelt, in both a large wolf form and as a giant human goddess. The continued white light that flowed around her made it difficult to pin down her figure now. She picked up a shard. “Anger,” she said, then reached for a second. “Hatred.”

She held the two pieces of the mirror side-by-side and they fused together. Kueth could almost see violet of an eye. His eye? He wasn’t sure, he’d never seen himself properly in a mirror before.

But soon Wolf began to pick up more shards. “Joy, and sorrow,” she said, fusing them with the rest. “Envy, lust,” two more fragments added to the mirror’s whole. Kueth could see his own blond hair and the sharp, jagged scales along his jaw. She continued to build the emotions with the shards—mirth, obsession, kindness—until she held the last one for him to see. “Love,” Wolf said before adding the last piece to the mirror, making it whole. “Do you understand?”

Kueth nodded, but he didn’t believe her. He wasn’t sure he could feel any of those emotions, what made him exist. Is this what being alive meant? To feel? Envy, perhaps, lust, sure. But love? Kueth was quite certain he had no place in his existence for love.

In those giant hands, or were they paws, Wolf folded the mirror into her and opened them to reveal flesh. A pumping heart with blood staining those perfect, ethereal fingers of the Moon Goddess.

Kueth wanted it. He craved it, the hunger of his form salivating with hunger. He licked his lips and reached out for the beating organ; his heart. That was what she was offering, and it belonged to him. He yearned to taste the copper blood on his tongue.

“Many have lost faith in your humanity,” she said, he voice reverberating in Kueth’s head like a warm mother’s kiss on the temple. “But one that is dear to me prayed for your mercy when you showed it to them.”

The heavy muscle was placed in Kueth’s open palms. He cupped his prize, eyes eager, mouth filling with spit. But as he prepared to devour his heart he noticed a new red. It was string, the slid from his heart and wrapped around his right pinky finger. From there, the string went off into the darkness of the forest, past Wolf’s moonlight.

Kueth looked up to Wolf, his hunger for the moment paused long enough to wonder. “His prayers have met me and I take pity on his love of you. I gift you your life back, if you promise to protect him while his body remains on this realm.”

The Xaela had no idea what she meant. Who had he shown mercy to? Was it during a battle? When he was burning the huts of the last village on a raid? He wondered, vaguely, about a pale boy with eyes that looked to him not as a beast, and Kueth did not swing his ax on his head.

If that was all it took to exist, he would not argue. He lowered his head and put his mouth on his heart. The muscle was dense, and it beat hotly in his mouth. His jaw ached only after the first three bites but he was determined to have it.

He wanted his own heart!

Blood fell between his fingers, hot and gushing. It wove around his fingers. More red thread tied there, more red thread that ended to an unseen direction within the mists of the forest.

Each bite filled him, warmed him, made his cheeks hot and tears sprung from his eyes. It was as if each bite was piecing him together, and drawing out endless strings of destiny.

“The more you feel, the more you live, the more you love,” Wolf began as Kueth licked the last of the hot blood from his fingers, only looking at the many new threads attached to his hands. “The more your life will connect to others. Be patient and kind, listen, and learn to utilize your new emotions.”

Kueth looked up then, the Goddess again looking more like a misty wolf than a woman. He felt the blood drop down his chin but he didn’t wipe it away. “You wished Koo-eth to protect one. Now, all of these?” he held up his hands with so many strings.

A giant paw rest of Kueth’s shoulder in reassurance. “I give you one request. In time, the desire will be all your own.”

Kueth nod his head although he didn’t understand. He then turned from her, looking around his pit. His prison, his only home, where he was kept like a wild dog. “This one is free?”

The Xaela must have woken up, because when he looked back to seek out Wolf, she was gone. The glow of the blue moon was high in the sky beyond clouds and his muddy pit was as chilly and bone-filled as ever. He reached up, confused. He’d never had such a dream! He went to wipe away the memory of the blood from his chin only to realize the ease of movement.

Chains that often kept him down were gone from his wrists. The neck brace was unlocked. His hands could drag him up out of the mud, he could wander away with no guard. He could seek out this boy that looked at him with eyes he did not understand.

Kueth glanced at his pinky finger and followed the pull of destiny.


	4. Snow Moon

Kueth stepped out of his tent and looked upwards. For once, it wasn’t snowing, but it was still rather frigid. He pulled his poncho closer around his broad shoulders and used the moon’s light and the white snow already on the ground to guide his path.

The herd he’d been following had wandered around the Shroud, so the winter wasn’t devastating to his hunts but it did make it uncomfortable. The snow lingered in slushy batches,making the frozen ground muddy with patches of ice. Kueth tried not to lament his boots as he stepped in a chilly puddle when he walked.

Eventually, after ducking under brambles and avoiding the slush as best he could, he came to a riverbed with lots of rocky outcrops.

Mission in mind, the Xaela went to the edge to pick up a crystal he let charge in the full moonlight and settled down on a rock that he’d previous cleared off. It was cold from the nighttime chill and the still-winter air, even the blanket he settled down didn’t stop it form seeping through to his bones.

But, the wasn’t deterred as he set the crystal down on a rock before him. He placed a few items down; a candle, a shallow bowl filled with water, a bit of paper with a sigil inked on it. After a shhhk of a match, he lit the white candle, pulling the ice from the air and warming it with an orange glow.

“You are a stubborn one this season,” he finally spoke, smiling down at the shallow dish. It reflected the moon above in the still water, a bone-chilling silence in the winter night. “Ice and snow lingers but when Kueth think it warming, then we more snow!”

Kueth chuckled fondly, speaking to the moon as if an old friend. He circled the dish with the charged ice crystal three times before going on. “Times are embedded in Kueth’s heart where he wishes to give up and sleep when the cold passes his fire and the tent his chilly. Mornings are dazzling, pink and orange, Kueth thank one for your beauty, but...” he frowned down at the moon’s reflection. “But it hard. Sadness has moved into Kueth’s heart, loneliness.”

His words were less vibrant in the world as his articulation came from his heart rather than the limited vocabulary he possessed. His prayer, regardless, was reaching. “You are a mother of healing, and renewing, even if you sit in the bones of winter deep where one can lose faith.”

He held up the paper with scribbles, a sigil of an octagon and a few swoops inside. “There are people in Kueth’s life, but Kueth scare many away from closeness. Kueth asking Snow Moon for guidance and hope. He wishing to find a way to connect and to be kinder. Nicer. He can be cruel and abrupt, Kueth ask Snow Moon to help Kueth smooth his edges.”

He bowed his head and slipped the paper through the candle’s flame. It caught quickly and the sigil burned away. “Cleansing, healing the spirit, inner strength, and transformation. This Moon Kueth trying to work on self so he can help others. Kueth hope this not selfish, but he find it may be good time to renew his heart’s efforts.”

The large Xaela looked upwards finally and smiled at the quiet moon above. “Please help Kueth to become kinder during his reflections.”

Snow Moon wasn’t a talkative one, but Kueth was sure he saw a pulse of her light shift overhead. “Kueth do his best by you.”


	5. Sap Moon

What a beautiful morning. Kueth had to shield his eyes from the bright sunrise that poured over the land. The world was thriving, draped in green and gold light, and full of happy morning birds finding the first worms that crawled up from the thawing earth below.

The Xaela stretched wide, feeling as though he were a flower blooming for the first time after the barren and chilly winter. It wasn’t humid or particularly warm, but he opted to go shirtless today. The bit of bite still in the morning air was refreshing rather than depressing.

Kueth loved all times of the year, but perhaps spring was his most desired. He loved to see the fauna prance about as they recovered from winter and began their mating dances. The flora was refreshing and scented the air with growth and green. The birds were loud and cheerful, letting the world know how excited they were to see the sun anew.

After a good stretch, a bounce on his toes, and a scratch to his thigh, Kueth left his tent’s doorway and went about his morning routine. He passed by a tree and licked his lips, excited for the sap he’d soon be able to tap into. Sugary confections were not a favorite of his, but a few natural treats like sap and honey were a nice, sweet treat every now and again.

The equinox was upon them, and he was excited to converse with the full moon. She was always an excitable one, and Kueth always matched that joy. It was a perfect time for renewing ideas, breathing deep the scent of personal grown, and admiring the grand flow of life around him.

The big Xaela had a bounce in his step as he felt the energies flowing around him. It was conductive, like lightening, bringing a greater clarity to the senses, awareness of the spirits, and allowed focus to the ancestors. Kueth sat on a boulder beside a river, settling in for his morning prayer and meditation. He took a deep breath, filling his lungs with energy as a few spirits shifted around to say hello.

Kueth giggled, in a way that sounded like gravel being shook in a cloth bag; deep and warm, a beast turned into a gentle giant. “No no, we talk later,” he told the spirits, shooing them tenderly away. “Kueth praying for more light,” he said, touching his chest, over his heart, not knowing just how full it already was.


	6. Noodles

Most days, Kueth enjoyed getting hands on with his work. He chopped his own wood, he gathered his own indigence, he pitched his own tent, he cooked his own meals. Today, however, he was exhausted and cooking wasn’t exactly appealing for once.

He’d been pretty social lately, which was taking a toll on him. Fighting was one thing, but building and maintaining the energy to sustain daily conversations was exhausting. And all the extra steps it took when living off the land and no instant meals could have its downfall.

Therefore, the big Xaela peered into his tiny gil purse and counted. Was that enough for a meal?

He wasn’t sure, but being near Lavender Beds he was hopeful he’d find a cheap meal at one of the market places there. Evening was already on it’s way when he wandered into the marketplace. The area was a lazy sort of excitement with the days growing longer and the weather far warmer than just a few weeks ago. The sky was blazing orange and yellow on the horizon and already a few stars decided to pop into view in the opposite direction.

A warm, spicy scent caught the Xaela’s attention. He put his nose into the air and followed the delicious mixture of spices until he found a small stall. A few bar chairs were lined up before the cook with a cloth overhang to give the patrons privacy as they ate.

It reminded Kueth of the stalls in Kugane when he visited with Pepeko and his friends, so he slipped under the overhang and tried his best to get comfortable on a stool (gods, how he hated chairs).

Just as he hoped, the food was udon! All sorts of noodles floated in vats of hot liquid and the broths were all the more intense under the overhang.

“Welcome friend!” said the Raen behind the food. His hair was tied back and he was perhaps balding, but the teal and blue colors were still fun to look at under the bandanna. “Come for the udon, stay for the sake!”

Kueth smiled as warmly as his scary face could summon and he held out his hand, palm up, showing a small pile of gil. “Yes, please, is this enough for a bowl?”

The Raen man peered at the gil then pulled back, letting out a hearty laugh. “New to Eorzea?” he assumed, as many did, for Kueth’s lack of knowledge on monies. “That will do, toss that gil in the cup right there.”

The gil clinked as Kueth popped it into the ceramic tip jar.

Kueth’s tail nervously thud against the bar stool’s legs, not used to eating out, nor what proper protocols were. At least the chef didn’t seem to mind his presence as he went to work on a bowl of noodles.

“So, big guy,” said the other au ra. “How long you been around here?”

“A few seasons?” Kueth tried, not sure exactly. “Maybe three winters. Kueth is not good at keeping track of time.”

“Few seasons? Ha! I wouldnt’ve guessed. You sound foreign,” said one foreigner to the other. “I mean, for being around for a few years. Most Steppes people are adjusted by now.”

Kueth dipped his head, already aware he had a speech issue, and it had nothing to do with any accent or language barrier. He knew, but sometimes it hurt to have it pointed out. “Kueth’s brain just work different is all.”

The Raen paused as he ladled broth into a bowl, his ridged brow raised. “My daughter was talking about a Xaela that talked funny. Was out of a mission from that board in the bar, said the guy fought like a wild beast but spoke like a child.”

Kueth peaked upwards and tapped the axe as his back.

The chef laughed. “Thought so! You look like a tough feller,” at that he dipped a bit more meat into the udon then handed the bowl to Kueth.

Kueth gave his thanks with a little bow of his head, but as he picked up his chopsticks to eat he suddenly didn’t fell hungry anymore. The looked up instead at the warm old man and his wrinkled skin and pleasant smile. “Is Kueth really that strange?” he asked quietly.

The other man laughed, it was a hearty sound and Kueth was sure he could figure out his daughter from that laugh alone. A spiritedly woman with a lance and a big laugh. That was a good dungeon and the reward from the adventuring board was decent.

“You’re different, I can already tell,” the man answered and went about cleaning a few utensils.

Kueth went on with the conversation, almost to himself. “Kueth offend people because he is… strange.” He pout at his reflection in the udon bowl.

“Ah, don’t be like that, boy,” the man returned his attention to Kueth. “Perk up, you have a nice looking face-” he paused, looking at Kueth, then made a face as if he was trying and failing not to lie. Kueth wasn’t ugly, but he wasn’t pretty. He was scary-handsome, he at least knew that much. “Well, I’m sure you have a sparkling personality.”

Kueth smirked back at that, sharing a sardonic expression with the man, obviously catching on to the lie. They both laughed this time, pulling Kueth from his sudden slump. “One is right, Kueth try his best to be nice and kind. It is okay to not please everyone, right?”

The fatherly man winked at Kueth. “You got it, son. Keep smiling, right here.” He tapped two fingers against Kueth’s chest. The Xaela perked up at that, the man was speaking his language of the heart. “That’s where it matters.”

“Yes!” he agreed, and took a big, hearty bite of his food, slurping loudly. “Kueth smile in heart all the time with all he have.”


	7. Festival

A child squealed as Kueth held them tight and spun them both around in circles. Laughter blasted over the many other happy noises at the festival.

“Me next, me next!” a little boy demanded when the child was set down.

Kueth roared with joy, enjoying all the little hands wanting to play with the big, scary au ra. “BOTH!” he declared and carried them both, one under each arm, and ran around the crowded festival.

“I’m on the aether current!” the little boy yelled.

“Look!” the other child point to a boot. “Chocolate.”

“Chocolate? One likings chocolate?” he asked, making a face of disgust that generated more giggles from the children.

“YES!” they cheered and Kueth ‘flew’ them over to the booth and set the children down on their feet. He gave a glance back at their parents, getting a warm nod from one of the mothers before Kueth fished out a few gil from his pouch. He gave two gil to each.

They ran to the booth to get their sweets when an old man came up to him. “Here,” he said, his wrinkled hands shaking and his eyes wrinkled with a smile. “Aren’t you the one that helped us in the floods this past spring? Kueth, right?”

Kueth gave a nod and took the bundle of pale green cloth presented to him.

“You saved my son’s family. He might not be with us anymore, taken from the wars, but you boy… we would have lost our farm if you weren’t with us,” the old man beamed up at him with a few missing teeth, and Kueth knew he loved this old timer’s heart.

He bowed to him, a proper thing. “Thank one. Kueth is much honored to help.”

“Go on, put it on!”

Kueth unfolded the fabric. It was a summer yukata in a pale and moss green. it was frayed a little at the edges with obviously several mendings, but it made Kueth’s heart swell.

“This is for Kueth?” he asked, purple eyes watering.

“Don’t give me that, boy. He would have been honored. Go on, put it on.” He old man helped Kueth done the outfit, tying it for him as Kueth wasn’t sure how to get it right.

Kueth turned, trying to see the effect without a mirror. “This is perfect!” he beamed, not caring that it was second hand. It was super special to the man, and therefor super special to Kueth. “Kueth will take great care of it.”

The old man beamed, wiping his eyes, and nod to the children. “They’re waiting for you.”

Kueth turned to the children with their faces smeared with chocolate. “We go play games now!” he cheered with the children and they trotted off to another booth where Kueth won them each a stuffed moogle.


	8. Anon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone left an anon that was too shy to say hello. This was the reply.

Kueth was chilling (shirtless, of course) on a thick tree branch, basking in the green sunlight that filtered through the foliage above. He’d had a hard run these past few months with hunts and random village do-goodness, and that little girl he carried around until they found her family on a caravan. And he was sure he wasn’t going to return to his friends anytime soon with the good hunting he was getting deep in the wilderness.

But his recent travels pulled him in closer to a village. Even from lounging a few miles away he could still feel the buzzing energies they let off as they prepared for a midsummer festival. Kueth wondered if he should go visit or leave them alone. He almost always got into some sort of trouble, but festivals were so much fun!

His lizard-like tail waved lazily as he considered his options and watched a few butterflies flutter overhead when suddenly they scattered and a shimmering shadow replaced them.

“Eagle,” Kueth sat up and gave his best attentive bow of his head when still floating in his drowsy state. Meeting spirits was not uncommon for the young shaman, but he was still on feeble terms with most flight-based animal spirits.

The bird spirit tilt its head to one side, then turned, giving Kueth a regal profile. Kauth could see through the spirit up to the branches overhead, and the sun kept getting in his eyes. He had to squint.

The spirit gave a mighty flap of its wings that shook a few leaves from the tree.

“There is someone you need to meet,” the spirit beast said within Kueth’s heart. Words weren’t really the language of spirits, but Kueth knew it just the same. He didn’t speak back, however, giving Eagle their respect to speak its mind.

“I flew far to delivery the message,” Eagle said with another turn of its head, giving Kueth an angry look. “Now go find this person.”

“Who is-” Kueth began, and stopped the moment Eagle opened its wings. Of course Eagle was not going to be so easy with information, as many spirits were. The spirit flew off in a shimmer of purples and blues until Kueth could no longer feel its presence.

A new mission from the spirits. Kueth knew better than to sideline a request like this, especially from a flighted spirit. He hopped down from his branch and slid the rest of the way on bare feet until he touched grass. “Kueth go find this person.”

Who was this person and where they were? Kueth had no idea, but he needed to complete this mission. He slung his shirt and shoes over his shoulder and hooked his ax to his back. Time to find them!


End file.
